Chapter Text
Something was strange, Mike thought. Everything felt off. If it was just one thing, he could ignore it, but it was everything. He sat at the play table, his sister and her friends long since finished, and let himself think. What had happened these past few years?
Holly had been taken. Will had gained powers, which were super cool but besides the point he should be focusing on. El died. They rescued—
Wait, El. El had used her mind powers to say goodbye to him. She couldn’t have done that. The sirens were going off. She couldn’t have possibly used her powers, so how did that happen? Inconsistency number one.
He should keep track of these. He pulled out a blank notebook, red pen, and a pencil. He scrawled at the top, in big capital letters using the pen, ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG’, underlining it three times. He made a chart, labeled with ‘inconsistencies’, ‘true facts’, and ‘conclusions’.
He began writing down everything he could think of, every fact that he knew, using the pencil so he could adjust it later. El’s powers didn’t work, so she could not have done that in his mind. El told him that he “understood her better than anyone else”, which was a complete lie. He didn’t understand her at all. She had said so herself. That was the cause of their problems out in Lenora.
How the fuck did Max manage to graduate with them? She missed a whole year of school. You don’t come back from that and graduate on time. And Max getting better almost instantly after having so many bones in her body broken? He didn’t want to deny that it was a goddamn miracle, but it was still strange that Vecna’s actions were of little consequence. Fucking weird.
The military letting them go was too easy. They seemed far too content about El dying and left no trace of their existence behind. There must’ve been some reason they wanted her. If she had died and ruined whatever plans they had, surely they would’ve been more pissed off, right? The likelihood of them just ditching without a fight seemed less real by the second, despite the fact that it happened.
Speaking of easy, that final fight against Vecna and the Mind Flayer? Far too simple. Killing Vecna happened way too quickly. He wasn’t going to discount what Joyce did, that was unbelievably cool, but it all felt wrong. Vecna was supposedly super smart and strong and powerful. He’d been a thorn in all their sides for years, especially Will. He wouldn’t have let himself be beheaded like that. There’s got to be something he’s missing.
He glanced at the door handle. Was it always on the right? Was his brain just fucking with him at this point? It was such a small detail that he would normally think nothing of it, but the fact that it was so specific made him think it meant something.
He looked down at his notebook so far, trying to decipher what any of it meant. He was hoping that, if he had it all down, it could lead him to something. But right now, he just had a bunch of nonsense. There were more things wrong that he scribbled down as he thought of them, but it didn’t lead him closer to any conclusion. Or at least, not one that made any sense.
He decided to leave it alone for now. He should get something to eat. He pocketed the notebook and made his way up the stairs. “Mom? What do we have to eat?” He asked as he climbed.
“Oh, Michael! I’m sure I could whip something up for you!” She sounded happy. Unnaturally happy for someone who was attacked by a Demogorgon and fried some Demodogs just a few years ago. She turned around to face him, and he stepped back.
Her smile was unnervingly wide. Her expression didn’t seem real. The smoking gun, however, wasn’t what was on her face. It’s what’s missing. Her scar is gone. How is that possible? “Michael? What’s the matter?” She went up to him and put a hand on his forehead.
He shook her off. “Uh, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Hey, actually, I’m not that hungry anymore. Is it cool if I just go and bike around town?” Something was off in this house. He had to see if all of Hawkins was acting crazy, too.
Her smile didn’t falter. It seemed like her mouth, her whole face, was barely moving at all as she spoke. “Of course, Michael. You can stay out as long as you like. You’re a high school graduate now, after all.”
Mike nodded slowly. She wasn’t normal. He didn’t trust anything about this place. His mom was usually not this willing to let him do whatever. He had to get out of here.
He hopped on his bike, not sure of where he’d go or what he’d do. While he was out, he felt eyes on him. He looked up, and everyone in town was smiling at him. Eyes locked directly on him. Waving as stiffly as physically possible. There was a cacophony of people’s voices saying “hello Michael”, and all he could do was stare. Gawk in pure horror.
What the fuck is happening? He had to get out of Hawkins. He biked along the sidewalk, ignoring how everyone turned to smile at him. They were treating him like he was the only person in the whole fucking world that mattered.
He made his way to the edge of town, right up to the sign that read ‘Leaving Hawkins: Come Again Soon’. Lowering his head in determination, he went past the sign. Or, he would have, if he wasn’t knocked back on his ass. He frowned and got back up, putting his hand out. There was a wall. An invisible wall.
Before he could think too hard about what that meant, he was gone. It was like someone snapped their fingers, and he was back at graduation. Back in his orange robe.
Mike glanced around, feeling his breath speed up. He’s been here already. Why’s he back here? Was he supposed to notice something?
There was something off. He couldn’t even pay attention to Dustin’s speech again. Every person around him was posed the exact same way, down to the posture and the way they had their hands clasped in their laps. Creepy.
As soon as Dustin finished his speech and flipped off the principal, Mike stood up. Not just to clap and make sure that he didn’t stand out, but to observe.
Someone had a yellow sign with nothing on it. All of the people in the bleachers were also posed the same as his classmates. Were they all a hive mind or something?
Wait. Hive mind. Vecna. He gasped in realization. Was he under Vecna’s curse? Trapped in a vision? He made his way home, hoping to add it to the notebook. Would there even be anything in there right now? That doesn’t matter. He could add something to ‘conclusions’, at least. He was trapped in his mind. He had to escape.
He was outside of his house, about to go in, when everything started to disappear again. No. No no no! Fuck! He had to get to his notebook. Had to write something down before—
Mike was at the dinner table, the lasagna fresh on the table. He looked around at everyone. They were all so happy. Everyone was happy.
Everyone was cheerful. Everything was perfect for everybody. Everybody but him. Maybe that’s how it should be. He smiled even though he didn’t feel like smiling, and ate his plate of lasagna. It didn’t taste right. The cheese was sour. The noodles felt like sandpaper. The meat sauce was simultaneously too chunky and too smooth. He put down his fork.
“Michael? Are you okay?” He heard his mom ask. She seemed concerned, but she still appeared to have a smile on her face.
Mike shook his head. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m… I’m fine.” He took another bite, and it was normal. He looked up at his mom, and she looked normal. No weird smile, all normal mannerisms. Was he imagining it?
He finished his food and went upstairs, hoping to get some shuteye. Everything was fine. They’d won. Vecna was dead. He’d get back up in a few hours and forget that he ever thought anything was odd. That things didn’t line up.
Everything was going to be okay, no matter how much he wanted to tell himself otherwise. It was all normal. But everything being normal, everyone being happy and fine was throwing him off. Whatever. You’ll learn to deal with it. It will be fine, he heard a voice tell him. He didn’t recognize it, and was hesitant to trust it.
He rested his head on the pillow, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. He didn’t understand where it came from. He pulled out his notebook from under the soft pillow, and flipped it open to a random page. Whatever he was going to do was quickly sidelined, as his eyes widened at the singular word on the page. It wasn’t his handwriting. It was large, and scrawled in a bright red. ‘FAKE’, was what it read.
He stared at it for a second, before he scoffed and put the book away in his drawer. It was ridiculous. Fake could mean anything. It was nonsense. This was nothing. Just someone trying to do something stupid. Not important.
Before he shut his eyes, he thought about the notebook under his pillow. Only he knew where it was, that it was even a thing in the first place. He got the notebook back out, flipping to the page he was looking at before instantly. No going through the whole thing page by page, no, the first page opened was the one that read ‘FAKE’. He simply stared at it, trying to decipher the message, when his eyes closed against his will.
He tried to open them again, but he couldn’t. He was almost asleep, the book flat against his chest. As much as he didn’t want to be, it was as if he wasn’t in control. He decided to not fight against it. He could think about what that meant later. Sleep could be nice.